Military and Tie Dye
by Faerin
Summary: Sarge x Fillmore. OneShot Romance, massage oil, and love. How can you go wrong with that?


** Military and Tie Dye.**

** This, of course is Sarge x Fillmore. Just because they are so painfully obvious. I don't own the characters. Peace, and love, man. Peace and Love. Happy Reading -**

** Faerin**

I woke up early, the sound of loud guitars on speakers, and knew all too well, I wasn't the only one up. I stomped out of my standard military bunker, and straight over to the fence that divides my neighbor and I. He and I, are complete opposites, and always have been. You could tell by looking at our yards, this fence was a divider between two completely different worlds. I stopped at the fence and called to him.

"Hippie! Stop that ruckus! It's a disgrace!" It was like this every morning, and for all I knew, was always going to be.

"It's classic, man! Don't diss the Hendrix!" With that remark, I had to smirk. We were almost 45, and we have yet to greet each other normally. I don't even think he knows my name.

"Yeah yeah, flower child. Keep it down. Okay?" What was this calm voice? I don't think that was me speaking. Almost frightened, but never showing it, I glanced at the hippie who was frozen in mid-step.

"...Duuuude, are you almost being nice?" He gave his traditional smile, and laughed. He strolled over to the fence casually, and stared at my face. I threw myself backward, and tripped over my lawn mower. When had I put that there? It didn't matter; I was still on my butt in my lawn. Before I knew it, a hand lowered itself level with my face. Then another face was in mine.

"Are you okay, man? That looks like it might hurt. I got some herbs that might help with the burn." He pointed to my arm that had apparently broken my fall. Surely enough, blood was trickling down in thin lines.

"No thanks, Hippie. I'm a man, I can take this pain." I smirked. This was nothing. The war was six times worse. He shrugged it off.

"You sure, man? My Geodome, is just right there." He looked concerned, why not? The worse thing that could happen would be it would hurt.

"How long is this gonna take? I have a business to run. I don't have time for nature's little cure for a scrape." I cocked an eyebrow. I am so sarcastic. He grabbed my un injured arm, and nudged it to start walking.

"Just a couple minutes. Promise." Then I felt skin against my arm, and realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt. Damn Hippie, so indecent. I pushed myself away from him.

"I get bad vibes from you all of a sudden, dude." He stood back and examined me. His stomach flexed a bit straining to lean back. I could feel a blush coming, but I fought it. I'm not like that, I do not like men. Even if I did, why would I be attracted to a tree hugging, nature-loving, braid-wearing hippie like Fillmore.

"Are we going to get this over with or not?" I sounded irritated. Am I irritated? I don't know. My hormones are off this morning.

He just smiled and slapped my butt to get me into his geodome. I jumped and fell into his bead door, landing on a bean chair. I remembered these things, quite comfy actually. Music began playing from behind another bead curtain, something soft though, almost like a ballad.

I took the time to take in my surroundings. The room was dark, as the only lights were black bulbs or candles, but I could still make out some flowers painted on the walls. I guessed this was his living room, but there was no TV. There was a yoga mat, and a line of cushions and bean chairs. To the left of me, was a book shelf. Though very disorganized, it was there. I got up to examine it closely. Most of the books were how to take care of various amounts of plants. Hippies. Heh. I glanced around me to see the stereo. Now was my chance, if I just go through and find that -stupid- Hendrix cd. I could have peaceful mornings! But when I got over there, Fillmore had returned bearing the cheesiest grin I have ever seen. He has something planned...I know it.

"You found my cd collection, man! Isn't it great? I have all the classics, Hendrix, The Beatles. You name it, I have it." He was so close to me that I could feel his breath moving my shirt. His bare arm brushed against mine, and I tightened my muscles, earning a peculiar look from him.

"You okay, dude. You don't look too good...Maybe...you should sit down?" He said motioning towards the bean chairs.

I nodded and headed towards them. It felt like it took forever, but I finally sat down and regained my composure. Fillmore, who followed me, was holding a bottle, with "Scrapes, and burns" Painted on the side with a vibrant green color. I didn't trust it, but I wasn't gonna run away either. So it ensued.

"You have to take off your shirt, man." He sounded so happy about it.

"Are you insane! I'm not taking my shirt off you lunatic."

"Your long sleeves are in the way dude."

"Fine, stupid hippie." I was agitated, but wasn't going to argue with him. I don't think he ever gets mad. So, I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, and relieved myself of it. Tossing it somewhere behind me, I noticed that Fillmore was gawking at me. Before I could stop it, the blush that I fought off earlier had returned and burned in my cheeks.

"Get on with it Hippie." I sounded so mean. He shook his head, making his bandanna loose. Quickly fixing it, he stood up.

"Kay...It might sting a little bit, man." He sounded concerned. It wasn't like him.

"Fillmore, just do it." With that, he almost jumped back in shock.

"You called me 'Fillmore.' You must be sick, dude." He opened the bottle, and poured the contents on the small scrape. And I tensed at the sudden cold, and he let out a giggle.

"Cold? Sorry. Let me just rub it in a little, man." He rubbed the lotion like liquid into my arm. I don't know what it was, Fillmore rubbing my arm, or the lotion, but I was suddenly a lot happier and defiantly not in pain. I closed my eyes and began to enjoy myself. When Fillmore stopped, my eyes shot open.

"Why'd you stop?" I questioned. And then my eyes went wide, in realization in what I just said.

"Did...you want me to keep going...?" He was so serious, so sensual...gentle. Like if I said the wrong thing, he would brake. I nodded, and willingly lay down on the yoga mat. He disappeared into the back room again, and returned with another lotion, marked "Massage Oil." Why does he have this stuff? He uncorked the bottle, and the scent of vanilla...and a hint of strawberries filled the room. I took it in, not knowing why I was so calm, but not really caring either. He put the oil on my back, and I tensed again. But again, Fillmore eased the cold away into loving warmth that I had never known. He worked his way down, kneading my flesh till it went soft. It was, to put it into words, incredible. But as it came to an end, he just sighed, and lay down beside me. A bold move, I must say. But I was way too relaxed to care.

"Thank you Fillmore. That was amazing." I sounded that we just had sex or something. But that would never happen.

"That doesn't -have- to be the only way to feel amazing, man." He rolled to his side, and looked at me. No, not at me, inside me, searching me. For truth, for comfort...for...love? His eyes were so intense, and they slowly closed, freeing me from the gaze. He rolled back over, and got up. As he was walking away, I felt so alone, so cold. I needed him with me.

"How...can I then?" My voice came out soft, pleading.

He stopped walking, and turned back around. An almost sad expression on his face.

"Love, man. Love. It can make you feel amazing, promise." He kneeled down, and I sat up, level with him. Now I understood. Why he was so concerned, why he was doing all this for me. He...loved me. I cupped his face with my hand. And slowly closed the gap between us. My nervous and self-conscious lips met soft and confident ones in a gentle embrace. He sat shocked for a moment, before he realized what was going on. He wrapped his arms around my neck, and mine were somewhere on his waist. I was completely lost in this moment. This magic, this miracle, this kiss. I needed this, I needed him. When we finally separated for air, all I could do was admire him. He was sloppy, indecent, and the best thing that ever happened to me.

**And...**

** I love...Him.**


End file.
